


What's Up Danger

by Anglotron



Series: Star Wars: Lost in the Storm [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boba Doesn't Take Anything Seriously, Bond Sensitivity, Bounty Hunters, Bounty Hunters Are Bad Comedians, Childhood Trauma, Clan Kalessu (OC Mandalorian Clan), Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Boba Fett, Force-Sensitive Jango Fett, Gen, Jedi Holocron, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Learning the Force (Star Wars), Lightsaber Training (Star Wars), Mandalorian Clan (Star Wars), Order 66 Aftermath (Star Wars), Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Save Younglings, Save the clones, Soul Bond, Uncle Bossk, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglotron/pseuds/Anglotron
Summary: While trying to steal a Holocron, Boba and his crew are caught in the middle of Order 66. In the midst of the fallout, they and a batch of unique clones save as many younglings as they can, including a certain green swamp frog.
Relationships: Boba Fett & Fennec Shand, Bossk & Boba Fett, Fennec Shand & Bossk
Series: Star Wars: Lost in the Storm [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193996
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	What's Up Danger

Cad Bane, when alive, enjoyed his reputation.

The higher you were on the ladder, some of it could get to your head. Through an unknown underworld of the Holonet, hunters would update on their conquests. Whether it was heists, bounties or whatever, people liked to boast. Some hunters even posted how they did seemingly impossible things, and Cad was no different.

While he left out specific details, Boba had his ways of getting them. Having access to Cad's ship and equipment certainly helped in that endeavour, and like that, Boba had the plan for the famed Holocron Heist. Cad had been the first to do it, though not successfully, as the Jedi caught him.

Boba intended to not only do it but take more than just one measly Holocron. He'd take whatever he could get, as well as the infamous forbidden archive texts. The black market was insane regarding Sith and Jedi artefacts; the prices people were willing to pay could retire the thirteen-year-old. 

Of course, Boba would improve where Cad failed. Unlike Cad, Boba had a team, and they were each skilled in their own right. They'd be swimming in credits after this and further up the hunter hierarchy. The higher you were, the better jobs you got. 

He was going to be the best, just like his father.

"What's this all about then, squirt?" came the annoying voice of Dengar. 

"Shut up, Dengar," Bossk hissed, sitting beside the newest member of their group. "What've you got, kid?"

"We're getting a Holocron."

"Ooh," Latts giggled, immediately interested. "You can buy a planet for how much they're worth."

"You can finally get a facial transplant, get rid of that shit a bantha left behind," Bossk hissed to Dengar, who shrugged the insult off. "I presume you have a plan."

"Obviously," Boba smirked, placing a hologram on the table. He activated it, producing the schematics of the temple. "Courtesy of Bane, we have a map of the temple. We'll use the same way he did. Thanks to the Temple bombing, their security is vulnerable, and nobody's stupid enough to go the same route as Bane, except for us. Also, my old man left me a key."

Boba held a sabre hilt, made from Beskar and engraved with Mando'a. It was Jango's sabre, the one he used to kill Tor Vizsla. With that very blade, Jango ended the civil war, decimating the Death Watch. 

Bossk recalled that war, having fought in it alongside his brother. Their clan fought with all of their might, using their diversity to their advantage. Bossk lost count of how many times he had to regenerate, which sucked. Seeing his nephew hold it sparked familiarity, and he knew Jango would be proud. 

"Nothing they've got can keep us out. A good EMP will make things easier, too." 

"Getting in will be the easy part," Dengar pointed out, ready to make himself look good. "How're we getting out?"

"We're going to destroy the archives. In the confusion and panic, we'll get out the way we came, and with Latts as the best flier here, they'll never know it was us."

Now came the new kid. Bossk vouched for them, but while Boba trusted his uncle, he didn't know the girl. She looked to be a decade older, but he could smell the inexperience. The way she sat, it was arrogant and amateurish, someone who'd only been in the business a short while. 

"Fennec's a damn fine shot," Bossk hissed, patting the girl's shoulder. "She'd put Highslinger to shame." The droid beeped, red optics flashing. "It's a compliment, don't oil yourself."

"I'll prove it," Fennec said confidently, standing up and over the 'kid'. "So your old man had a fancy sword. That doesn't mean much against an entire temple filled with them."

"I've got something they don't."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

Boba banged against his chest plate, the ping echoing the room. 

"Lightsabres can't cut through beskar."

Bossk hated teenagers, especially Mandalorian teenagers.

"Cool, but we don't have that," Fennec pointed out.

"Then stay behind me."

"That's enough, you two," Bossk shrugged, getting up and cracking his knuckles. "Let's commit some genocide."

* * *

Boba held his father's sabre, wondering how he used it. He had so much to ask, but his father wasn't there. He couldn't even go to his ba'buir, the clan's location unknown to him. 

Finding the access panel, Boba smirked under his helmet. 

Content, Boba took it off the wall, rewiring it and placing an EMP-generator. It shorted out the forcefield, but to their sensors, it was still up. Placing it carefully back where it belonged, the group moved, entering a ventilation shaft. Bossk closed it behind them, and they were ready to go. 

Once inside, Boba had it detonate, causing the entire temple to shutdown. The generator would only last twenty minutes, so they had to move quickly. 

Using various ways, the group climbed to the bottom, being wary of anyone guarding the location. When Boba dropped down, he found a guard, snapping their neck quickly. Scowling, the boy waited for the others, having learned his lesson after Ventress. When on a team, you stay together; unless you want trouble. 

Cautiously, Boba stole the outward communicator from their arm, placing it on his bracer. 

"CC-7701, is everything alright?" came a voice that stung his ears, adding to his anger.

"Yes, sir," Boba said, deepening his voice. "Just a power outage; I can handle it."

"Alert me if you hear anything."

With the comm over, Dengar giggled, kicking the corpse.

"You've got your uses, squirt."

"Shut up, Dengar," Boba spat, which Dengar shrugged off, unbothered by the common comment. 

Bossk hissed at the armour, taking their blaster for himself. The trandoshan sniffed the air, checking for others. Growling, he pointed down a vent, and Dengar was more than happy to take care of it. Fennec looked up to the silent droid, wondering what he did. 

With a light growl, Bossk entered the vent first, crouching through the vents. He licked the air, using his Jacobson's organ for a specific taste. Once detected, he stopped, taking a canister and spraying it into the air, revealing a hidden trip laser. Battery operated, they didn't rely on the power grid. 

Using a knife, Bossk deactivated it, repeating the action until they were at the access vent. As the smallest, Boba got through the vent first, taking his father's light sword to the sealed door. Confidently, Boba impaled the metal, feeling the intense heat as it melted before his eyes. Like a vibroblade through flesh, the blade cut, leaving a doorway. 

Highslinger grabbed it, keeping it from falling and making noise. 

The sacred Holocron vault, home to the Jedi's deepest secrets, was ripe for the taking. Cad Bane only left with one, but Boba intended to take as many as possible. He'd keep one as a trophy; maybe kidnap a Jedi to open it. For now, though, he'd stick to succeeding in the heist. 

As Fennec entered, her dark eyes shone against the blue light. She placed her gloved fingers against a cube, pressing it, and watched it come out. She removed it, holding the object, having expected it to be not so small. When Dengar finally returned, he happily took his share, blood dripping from his hands. 

Boba was attracted to a specific one, however. It was behind thick translucent steel, but the purple shine interested Boba. Using his sabre, Boba cut through the glass, taking it. It felt right, holding the object, whatever it was, as it wasn't any Holocron he'd seen before. 

"Soldier," came that clone's voice from Boba's stolen communicator.

"Yes, sir?" Boba said, hiding his anger. 

"Order 66 is active. Alert if any try to escape your way."

The voice wasn't right, sounding too robotic - What did he mean by Order 66? What did he mean by escape?

There was a sensation in his chest. It was minor at first, but it grew like a wildfire in a dry forest. The pressure intensified, and his ears became hot. It felt like thousands were screaming in silence, their breath burning his face. His gut told him to leave, to run far away and hide. 

Bossk put a hand on his nephew's shoulder, concerned over his blank stare. 

"We need to leave," Boba said firmly, the pressure only mounting. 

As they prepared to leave the way they came, they heard a scream. Blaster fire echoed, and the cry of an elderly-woman fell silent. Just like that, another cry added to the ever-mounting mute chorus. Boba understood now; the pressure was from multiple people dying. 

He'd always been able to feel things like that, as had his father. He never felt anything like this, though, the feeling of hundreds of lights going out. Even when they went out, the cry remained, echoing across the void of space. It wasn't just their pain; he could feel others.

Regret, confusion, fear, guilt and dissociation. The backup choir were the killers, but they were scared; what the hell was this?

The doors opened, revealing clone troopers. Highslinger rolled the door, using it as a shield while they open fire. 

The colouration matched the 501st, Anakin Skywalker's group. Boba stepped over the bodies, finding the owner of the scream. The woman had been a Jedi, judging by the sabre hilt in her hand, but that didn't make sense.

Her wounds were consistent with the trooper's blasters, but she's a Jedi. The clones would die for their Jedi, not kill them. Bossk hissed in Mando'a, voicing similar confusion. The reptilian picked up her sabre, snarling at the bizarre situation. A clone rebellion, perhaps?

Feeling vibrations through his feet, Bossk snarled, facing the doors. 

Several clones entered, trying to kill them. Fennec rolled behind a bookshelf, using her rifle to aim for the heart. Bossk deflected the shots back, using the newly acquired weapon to slice through the men with his brother's face. Boba used his Trapwire, pulling one close only to use the blade in his bracer. Boba slashed his arm against the clone's leg, cutting through the armour and artery. 

The clone quickly bled out, leaving a thick iron smelling puddle. Boba stepped over it, despising the body. 

More came, cannon fodder by design. Boba didn't understand their behaviour; it was too robotic. As much as he hated the clones, he knew each one was an individual. Their behaviour didn't align with that fact.

Highslinger beeped towards multiple clones, alerting his comrades. Bossk brought down a table, dragging Fennec and Dengar towards it. Boba took cover with them, listening to Highslinger go beast-mode, shooting anything that moved.

Dengar smiled at Fennec, commenting on her appearance. 

She hit him in the face with the butt of her rifle. Boba sighed, disappointed in his behaviour. 

Dengar jumped up, pouncing onto a trooper and starting punching, breaking through the armour. Bossk roared, cutting through the numerous clones. Boba stuck to his back, intent on putting an end to whatever this was. Activating his flamethrower, Boba set them aflame, the fire spreading quickly through the archives. 

As it cut through, Dengar and Highslinger were cut off, stuck on the other side.

"Get to the top. We'll pick you up!" Dengar yelled, picking up a table to use as a shield. Another door burst down, and Highslinger started blasting at them immediately. Dengar cackled, jumping into the fray like a lunatic. 

Bossk kicked down the last one of their wave, hissing in frustration. 

Boba felt something new, tugging at him, pleading for him. It came from above, crying out for aid. He didn't know how he knew, but it was a child, and Boba never turned down a child. He didn't deal with children; it was one of the rules that Boba never broke. 

Fennec aimed her blaster at a clone that wasn't dead yet, kicking off his helmet. She finished the job, blood and grey matter splattering on the floor.

"We're getting out through the Council room," Boba said, intent on answering that plea. Bossk was unsure but nodded, and Fennec was all for escaping alive. "Fennec, you have the rear. Bossk, take the middle. I'll take point."

She'd been wrong; he wasn't just some kid in armour too big for him. Whoever the kid was, he knew what he was doing, and she liked that, even if he was a short squirt. 

They clambered up the stairs, eliminating any threat in their way. 

The trandoshan grunted, following the boy, promising to smack him upside the head when he got the chance. If the boy died, then Jango would come back from the dead to kill Bossk. It was like he was following something, and that made Bossk worried. 

Boba skidded to a stop, kicking in a door. A Jedi lay dead on the floor, their body cut diagonally by a light sabre. The call came again, from below the Jedi's body. Pushing the body away, he found a crease in the carpeting, tearing it away to reveal a hatch. Boba threw it open, met with the faces of seven children. 

They huddled into a corner, shaking in terror; one was just a baby. Bossk looked over his shoulder, concerned as to how Boba knew they were there.

None of them was even nine yet, their fear almost chewable. 

"Kids?" Fennec questioned, confused. "What the hell are kids doing here?"

"They're younglings, future Jedi," Bossk explained, kneeling and offering a hand. One brave child took it, and he helped them out. "We're getting them far from here. The Kalessu leaves no child behind."

Their Mandalorian clan, one of their codes, something Boba had to follow. He hated the Jedi, but the kids were innocent, likely pried away from their mother's arms. 

He assisted Bossk, determined to keep them alive. The feeling came again, though not from the group. Boba looked up, noticing a shape in a vent. He climbed up, breaking it off, and a small green hand tapped his helmet, much to Boba's annoyance. 

"There's one here, too," Boba grunted, taking the infant. It cooed, liking him for whatever reason. "The hell is this?"

"Doesn't matter," Bossk waved off, counting seven of the children, eight including the infant. "Young ones, what has happened here?"

"The clones, they're killing all the Jedi, even us," she whimpered, wiping tears from her eyes. "Order 60-Something."

That's what Boba felt. He felt the Jedi dying, but also the clones doing it. They weren't willingly doing this; that Order was making them do it. As much as Boba despised them, he wouldn't take away their will like that; not even Uncle Dooku would do that. It was the Kaminoans; Boba knew it. 

"We're getting you out of here," Boba scowled, holding the hatch open for the kids. "Are there any others?"

"Some went to the council," said a togruta child, barely six.

Boba looked down at the infant, the one who called out to Boba. They gurgled, sending a wave of gratitude and safety. He placed the baby in his bag meant for the Holocrons, confident the baby would be safe in there. Bossk and Fennec herded them out of the room, heading for the council room.

Along the way, they only found more bodies. Clones and Jedi covered the halls, their parts strewn like morbid decorations. Having children made them slow, much to Boba's frustration. 

Even so, it was their duty to protect the kids. 

A new feeling came that was one of warning. Instinctively, Boba rolled, removing his bag and avoiding a blaster shot. He faced a clone in black and red armour, half of their helmet painted white. Boba took a knife from his leg, holding it with confidence. The opponent did the same, the feeling ordering him to be cautious.

"Boba!" Bossk shouted as his stupid nephew engaged the black ops clone.

The clone moved fast, his burning hot blade aimed for the gaps in Boba's armour. The clone was a different kind of warrior, someone that reminded him of his father. Boba ducked as best as he could, but the clone hit hard, a surprisingly superior warrior in hand-to-hand. 

Since he had it, he might as well use it in combat. 

Boba unsheathed his father's sabre, slicing it upwards, cutting the helmet off. He only seared away some cheek flesh, but it was enough. With a moment to spare, Boba stuck his knife into the clone's abdomen. He raised a leg, kicking the handle further inside, blood spilling onto the ground. 

Someone fired at Boba's leg and grazed flesh not covered by armour. He turned his attention to the attacker, earning a kick to the helmet. His opponent took the sabre, holding it close to his neck.

"What're you doing with the younglings?" the new clone demanded gruffly, the first holding the sabre close enough to burn Boba's skin. 

"Saving them from you," Boba spat, throwing his head back into the clone's face. The blade dipped into his shoulder, which hurt, but he could handle it. "Order 66, isn't it?"

"We had our chips removed a while ago," said the clone Boba stabbed, letting the teen go. He took out the blade, using Boba's sabre to cauterise it. He stared Boba in the eyes, not flinching as it burned his flesh. "It seems that we're working toward the same goal."

His friend took off their helmet, revealing silver hair and a tattoo around their eye. The silver one spoke in Mando'a, calling Boba's opponent Hunter. Hunter waved his hand, telling 'Crosshair' that it wasn't necessary. 

Hunter looked down at the boy, remembering him on Kamino. Even then, the kid had potential, and their fight only proved that. He was interested in honing that ferocious talent. 

"Fine. You call me brother, though, and it'll be your chode you cauterise next," Boba seethed, the comm on his wrist blinking. He tapped it, listening to what the controlled clone had to say.

"There are intruders in the temple. We're to take them to Lord Darth Sidious."

"A Sith Lord. Of course, there's a sith lord," Bossk grunted, glad that Dengar wasn't here to comment. "Looks like you're stuck with us."

Boba picked up his bag, glaring at the clones. Hunter wasn't concerned, finding the fire amusing. Crosshair didn't understand Hunter's interest but would listen to his brother. 

Hunter took point despite his injury, using his knowledge of clone tactics against them. Crosshair began placing remotely detonated bombs, prepared to destroy everything. Bossk approved, dropping a few of his own. With the temple in lockdown, Boba and Bossk used their sabres to cut through doors. 

No child left behind. Leaving them was a death sentence; no child deserved that fate. 

Once at the council hall, Hunter broke down the doors, but the effort had been for nought. 

The decimated bodies of children lay on the ground; horror etched into their blank eyes.

Decimated, destroyed beyond recognition, the deaths were long. They'd suffered before finally dying, none of which was necessary. Boba punched a wall, ignoring the damaged knuckles and fractured wrist. Bossk sighed, saddened by the carnage, wishing they'd been there sooner for the younglings. 

They didn't deserve this. 

An annoying whistle broke the moment, emanating from Dengar inside of a fly car. Bossk punched the glass, shattering it. Dengar was surprised to see the children, but knowing Bossk, he didn't question it. The trandoshan helped them inside, using his long arms to assist the kids.

Fennec climbed in next, readying her rifle, to which Latts chuckled, thinking she looked silly. Crosshair went next, then Boba, who turned back. 

Something dark's coming, the little kids feeling it too. Bossk felt the vibrations through the floor, turning around to face Anakin Skywalker. What used to be Anakin Skywalker, anyway. The hate and rage in his eyes were suffocating, the grip on his sabre tight enough to crack it. 

Knowing what was to come, Bossk prepared to protect his nephew and the kids. No other children would die under his watch; he promised that by Seimira's name. 

"You've betrayed me," Anakin said, scowling at Hunter.

"You betrayed yourself," Hunter spat, gripping his knife tightly. "And him."

As Anakin felt someone behind him, Echo fired a shot, hitting the ex-Jedi's back. With him distracted, Crosshair fired a shot, as well as Fennec. While Anakin blocked one, the other took out his left eye. Echo pounced, jumping to Hunter's side and blasting at his ex-master. 

Hunter jumped onto the vehicle, with Echo and Bossk close behind him. They took off, Bossk leaving a kind middle finger to the ex-Jedi.

Boba watched him, knowing they'd meet again. He looked into his bag, meeting the large eyes of the green baby. He reached up, holding Boba's hand, which was an odd feeling. 

"Those your new kids?" Dengar teased Bossk, to which Latts chuckled at; finding humour in the teasing. 

"Shut up," Crosshair growled.

"I like you, silver," Fennec decided, her smile growing as he held up the detonator. 

Boba looked to the temple as the bombs went off, wondering what the hell the universe would be like now. 

It would never be the same again. 


End file.
